


a smile that could light this town

by oopshidaisy



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, just two boys working things out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24394012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopshidaisy/pseuds/oopshidaisy
Summary: Richie should be making the most of these last couple of days before Eddie leaves, is the point. But he can’t.“You could come with.” Eddie’s sat the base of the tree, cross-legged, picking at the skin around his nails. “There’s space in the car, and you could check out my dorm. Help me decorate. Stay over, if you want. It’s no big deal.”*Or: Eddie's leaving for uni. Richie's doing a great job of dealing with it.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90





	a smile that could light this town

**Author's Note:**

> title is from 'the weekend' by modern baseball. i have a lot of their songs in my reddie playlist

“So, this weekend, huh?” Richie says. It’s approaching dusk, streaks of vibrant orange pouring through the trees, temperature dropping by the second. He watches his sneakers dragging through the mud in circles. He does not look at Eddie.

He should, he thinks. He should be drinking in the sight of the boy – the boy he loves, still loves, despite all the years of tucking it down deep and trying to ignore it lodged there like a splinter in his heart. He should be making the most of these last couple of days before Eddie leaves, is the point. But he can’t.

“You could come with.” Eddie’s sat the base of the tree, cross-legged, picking at the skin around his nails. “There’s space in the car, and you could check out my dorm. Help me decorate. Stay over, if you want. It’s no big deal.”

Richie wishes he had something to do with his hands, but all he can do is stuff them in his pockets, consciously trying to smooth out the tension in his shoulders. “You won’t want me there.”

“Um,” Eddie says, “I do, actually. I will.”

Richie laughs. “No, look, I know you guys all feel sorry for me, or whatever, but I’m fine. You don’t have to – humor me. Anymore.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re a drama queen,” Eddie says. “Sit the fuck down, you’re giving me neck strain. I don’t feel _sorry_ for you. Asshole.”

“Oh, there he is,” Richie says, complying with the demand. He sits next to Eddie and faces forward, not meeting his eyes. “I was starting to think you were gonna be weird forever.”

“Fuck you, I’m not being weird. _You’re_ being weird.”

“Fine, maybe we’re both being weird.”

“Okay, so…?” Eddie says. “Why?”

Richie looks over at him, and blanches when their faces are closer than he’d thought. The tree trunk isn’t wide enough for them to both sit comfortably against it without their legs pressing together, pinpricks of contact between their arms.

“You’re leaving,” he says.

“So? All of us are leaving. That’s what happens, when—”

“I’m not,” Richie interrupts jerkily. “I deferred my acceptance. Just ended up thinking, what the fuck am I gonna do at college, you know?”

Eddie turns his body fully, grabbing at Richie’s wrist. “You _what_? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you’re judgemental as shit, dude?”

“This is not me _judging_ you, this is me being _concerned_ for you. Do you even have a plan? I know Mike’s staying here, but he’s got a job lined up, and – fine. Okay. Maybe I _am_ a little judgemental, but I’m also your _best friend_ , and – what are you looking at?”

Richie tries to school his face into a neutral expression, but it’s tough when Eddie’s hand hasn’t left his wrist and has, in fact, settled there; it’s tough when he’s thinking about how he’s going to miss Eddie’s idiotic rants where his face goes all red and his voice gets increasingly shrill. He’s thinking about a set of initials carved into a bridge that he still, all these years later, hasn’t had the courage to return to.

Struck suddenly with the absurd thought that this could well be the last time he ever sees Eddie Kaspbrak, he says, “I’m looking at you,” before his brain-to-mouth filter kicks in.

“Oh,” Eddie says, quiet. He’s been growing his hair out all summer, and a strand is falling in front of his left eye. Richie’s fingers twitch.

He cracks a grin, trying to cover for the helpless fluttering in his chest. “You look all grown up, Edward.”

Eddie frowns like he’s trying to work out whether he’s being insulted or not.

“Look, do you want to come with me to New York or not?” he asks.

“Don’t know how I’d get back to Derry,” Richie says. “And I can’t be away from your mom for too long, or she’d start to miss me.”

“Fucking – dickhead, just fucking move to New York, okay?”

“What?”

“I want you to stay with me.” Eddie’s got that stubborn look on his face, the one that makes it seem like he should be stamping his foot. “It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.”

“Thanks for that.” Richie rolls his eyes. It’s like the offer isn’t sinking in; it feels too unbelievable that Eddie would want him there with him when he starts his new life. “What am I gonna do in New York?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

“Well, you’re the one asking me to uproot my entire life—”

“Like your life here is so great—”

“—and I’m just wondering if you’ve even thought this through, considering I piss you off even when we’re not living together—”

“Then try being less of an asshole!”

Richie stares at him. “Dude. I’m always going to be this much of an asshole. Have you been holding out hope for, what, _ten years_ that one day I’ll wake up like _hey, I gotta buy me some hand sanitizer and double-knot my laces and exercise twice daily_?”

“I don’t want you to do any of that stuff,” Eddie grits out, and then he’s swinging his leg round to straddle Richie’s outstretched legs, taking his face between both hands.

Richie’s brain starts experiencing technical difficulties.

Because Eddie’s hands aren’t gentle, and his eyes are a bit wild. He looks like he’s about to do something he can’t take back. Richie hopes he does.

“You want to come with me,” Eddie says. His voice is rough around the edges.

Richie still can’t speak. He nods, even though he’s not sure whether it was actually a question.

“So just say yes,” Eddie says.

“I,” Richie breathes. Swallows. “Yes.”

Eddie kisses him, then, softer than his hands had been and less certain than his words. Richie’s hands go to his waist, holding him there. He tips his head back so the angle’s better, and one of Eddie’s hands slides into his hair – a little harsh, a counterpoint to the sweet way he’s kissing.

“You’re extremely stupid,” Eddie says, breaking away.

“Uh,” Richie says. He’s trying very hard not to move, unsure of what Eddie wants from him. “Mixed messages?”

“You’re an idiot, and you’re coming with me to New York.” There’s this smile working its way across Eddie’s face that’s impossible not to return, feeling giddy with it.

“Richie and Eddie take on the world,” Richie says.

“Why’s your name come first?” Eddie complains, tugging on a strand of Richie’s hair hard enough that Richie spends a few seconds unable to speak.

“Sounds better,” he manages eventually. “ _Eddie and Richie_ , honestly. That’s just bullshit and you know it.”

Privately, he thinks both ways sound good, because both ways herald a future of the two of them together, a united front. When people talk about them, their names will come out conjoined, never – or at least rarely – one without the other. They’d been like that with the Losers, but Richie had thought he’d have to give it up once Eddie moved away, would have to learn how to be an isolated system again.

Eddie’s grinning down at him. They’re going to kiss some more, Richie thinks; they’re going to kiss a whole lot, here and in New York and wherever the fuck else they want to go, wherever life takes them.

“I can tell you’re thinking something gross and sappy,” Eddie says. He pulls Richie’s hair again. “Stop mentally naming our dogs and make out with me. Idiot.”

“You’re gonna let us get _dogs_?” Richie says, completely side-tracked. He feels drawn to the idea of a Pomeranian, but he’s willing to negotiate.

“If you don’t stick your tongue in my mouth in the next five seconds, the only pet I’ll let you have is a grasshopper.”

“I’ll name him George,” Richie says dreamily, but does as he’s told.

**Author's Note:**

> hand sanitizer line was written prior to the pandemic :/
> 
> i'm on tumblr [here](https://morgans-starks.tumblr.com/) and twitter [here](https://twitter.com/oopshidaisy)


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